


The Night Before, The Morning After

by Lysippe



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 14:41:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7938454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lysippe/pseuds/Lysippe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One night, punch-drunk on wine and the residual thrill of a mission well executed, Holtzmann kisses Erin.</p>
<p>She isn't planning on kissing her, per se. She's just happy, and tired, and Erin's smile is like the sun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Night Before, The Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> Here, have some fluff. I'm trying to train myself out of defaulting to high angst, and this seemed as good a way as any, because I really kinda just want them to be happy for a while (before I find a way to completely destroy one or both of them).

One night, punch-drunk on wine and the residual thrill of a mission well executed, Holtzmann kisses Erin.

She isn't planning on kissing her, per se. She's just happy, and tired, and Erin's smile is like the sun, and then Holtzmann is kissing her.

And Erin kisses her back.

And maybe she's surprised about that, maybe she isn't, but _surprised_ is a term wholly irrelevant to scientific exploration anyway, so she doesn't dwell on it. What she _does_ dwell on, is the fact that Erin's lips feel like crushed velvet and taste like pizza (vegetables on pizza is an abomination, but she wears it well), and that this feeling is at once brilliantly new and comfortably familiar, and the way Erin's hands in her hair is ground zero for the bursts of electricity running through her veins. (Electricity in one's veins is probably a symptom of something. Perhaps some rare neurological disease.)

(Or, it could be a symptom of kissing Erin Gilbert.)

Either way, Holtzmann is a big proponent of Doing Crazy Things in the Name of Science (Abby calls it "having the impulse control of a particularly impulsive toddler"), so she places her hands on the small of Erin's back and pulls her closer.

And this is good. 

\---

One morning, hungover on cheap moscato and the thrill of a kiss long in the making, Erin wakes up in Holtzmann's arms.

Well, to be more accurate (she can't help it; accurately reporting events and occurrences is vital in any scientific research), she wakes up with one of Holtzmann's arms draped haphazardly across her rib cage (it's complicating the process of breathing somewhat), and the vivid memory of how she got there.

She remembers laughing at something that may or may not have been funny (wine makes Erin think everything is funny), and then she remembers exactly three seconds of vaguely hazy eye contact that made her feel like she was burning up from the inside out. Not that she was counting (she was).

And then she remembers Holtzmann kissing her, and she remembers the taste of strawberry wine and pepperoni pizza, and she remembers the firm press of Holtzmann's hands on her back, and a warm, tingly feeling coursing through her that doesn't feel at all like kissing a containment unit.

And she remembers kissing her back.

But as genuinely surprised as she is that she managed to make a decision without thinking about it (for several days) first, and as much as Erin Gilbert is a planner-with-a-capital-P, that tingling feeling in her stomach actually feels _really good._ And when Holtzmann stirs slightly, burrowing her face into the sleeve of her sweater, she can't help pulling her in just a little closer. Everything just feels so _good_. 

And then Abby is standing in the doorway, and she's shouting, "PATTY! You owe me $50! I told you, I know Erin _and_ I know Holtzmann better than anyone, and I was right, wasn't I?" 

And Erin's entire world explodes into motion, scarlet cheeks and jumbled words-that-aren't-excuses, and Holtzmann places one hand on the curve of her waist and whispers into her ear, voice still rough and low with sleep, "I liked it if you did." 

She did.


End file.
